Golem In Paris, 7/7/07

Golem’s first trip to Paris was, of course, un succès fou.. (What else could it have been?) We arrived on the 20th of June and had a free day in the City of Light....we were met by Claude of Jumu, the great French Jewish music promoters who brought us to Europe in the first place, and gave us the royal treatment... Then we each did our own thing... Alicia, looking very parisienne, made an early-morning pilgrimage in high heels to Père Lachaise, the cemetery and final home of Jim Morrison, Chopin, and many others... Aaron looked at hand-carved knives in boutiques, Curtis was a flâneur wandering the city, Taylor, who studied music in Paris, looked up old friends, and Tim was speaking his four words of French with aplomb and tried some stinky cheese (too stinky). I drank tea and prayed for my voice to return, having lost it over too much vodka a few days earlier... That evening, Tim’s brother, photographer Ryan Monaghan, who had spent the last six months in Paris, took us out to an amazing dinner in the 15th, where we had lots of good food and wine to strengthen ourselves for the day ahead...Some of us caught the last metro back to the hotel.. and some of us didn’t!

We arrived the next day for soundcheck at the MAHJ, the Musée d’art et d’histoire du judaïsme, a gorgeous hôtel particulier in the 3rd arrondissment where we were performing in the large outdoor cour (courtyard) that night for the Fête de la Musique – a festival that happens every June 21st in France with free concerts everywhere. Oui, music for the people! The soundman was just setting up, and told me, “I had a really hard night and an even harder morning..it’s going to be a while.” I thought, “Wow, things are the same everywhere. Warsaw is Khelm, baby!”

By the evening, however, everything was running smoothly. There was a huge line to get in and the cour was packed. We took the stage, and worlds collided for me as we yelled “Sholem aleykhem, Pariz! Bonsoir Paris!” I had lived here a lifetime ago, studying French literature and falling in love with Marcel Proust. Now I was back, with Golem, doing the show in French, watching this great crowd eat it up... As I introduced our song “Le Mariage” from Fresh Off Boat, which is in French, and told how my mother had lived in Paris and brought the record back, which I used to listen to as a kid, I felt a surge of emotion and had to wipe away tears before starting to sing (my prayers were answered and my voice was back!).

We played for two full hours without stopping, and of course our Parisian debut was not without its surreal Golem moments.. In the middle of our pièce de résistance, Rumenye, Aaron lifted up the back of his jacket (of his suit which he had had tailored especially for the occasion) to show me that the pants had split completely up the middle. “Do you have other pants?” I hissed. Aaron grinned and shook his head no. The song ended and I joked about wardrobe malfunctions.. Aaron ran offstage and by the end of the next song, he was back. To our surprise, his pants were now held securely together with layers of black duct tape, with which our new best friends, the French soundmen, had quickly entwined him. The audience roared, and Aaron was even more on fire for the rest of the set, along with all of us. At the end, people asked, “Le coup du pantalon, vous l'avez fait exprès?” (“The thing with the pants was on purpose, right?”)

The next day, our flight was canceled, rescheduled, delayed and then landed mid-flight for more fuel with enough turbulence to make me reach for the barf bag. But in our minds we were still in Paris and (almost) didn’t notice.

[photos: grand merci à Michael Deibert (group shot) et Cyrille Benhamou (the rest!)]